Wingless Aces
by AliasCWN
Summary: When just doing your job is so much more. The Rat Patrol finds out what the other men on base really think of them.
**Wingless Aces**

By: AliasCWN

Dust swirled around his face as the other jeep cut in front to avoid a large rock. Sgt. Sam Troy ran a hand across his goggles to clear his vision. His driver steered around another boulder before taking his usual position beside the other jeep. Troy glanced over at Sgt. Jack Moffitt and flashed a tired smile. Moffitt grinned in return before resuming his watch on the desert around them.

Another long, hard mission was behind them. They'd been gone two long weeks harassing the German Afrika Korps. They'd used all their explosives to blow up several fuel depots and destroy various halftracks and tanks. Now they were headed home to resupply and charge their own batteries. In short, they were worn out.

Troy did a quick calculation in his head to decide what they needed to requisition in order to get the jeeps ready for another patrol. Explosives would be the first thing on his list. Rations would be next, they'd been sharing meals for two days to avoid running out. Gas and water were not requisitioned but they'd need to resupply although Troy would not put them on the list. Tully and Hitch would fill them automatically. Ammo was another thing it was just assumed they would need, only this time they were coming home with plenty of that. On this patrol they had managed to avoid running gun battles with the enemy in favor of sneaking in and blowing things up. Troy wasn't sure which method was harder on his nerves. This way was definitely easier on the ears. They were usually far away before the charges detonated.

Sleeping during the day was difficult and uncomfortable. You had to contend with the heat while keeping a sharp eye on your surroundings. German patrols and planes searched the desert during the day. But if you wanted to stay up all night sneaking into enemy bases to plant explosives, you needed your sleep during the daylight hours.

Troy took a good look at his small band. Both privates seemed relaxed behind the wheels of their vehicles. Maybe too relaxed. There were dark circles under their eyes confirming that the pace of the last two weeks had taken its toll. Their exhaustion was evident to anyone who knew them as well as their sargent.

Moffitt was alert but Troy could see the slump in his usually erect posture. The pace hadn't been any easier on the sergents Troy admitted to himself. His own body ached with every bump the jeep hit.

Hitchcock sensed Troy watching him and he glanced over. His normally bright blue eyes were dull behind the dusty goggles he wore. Troy nodded encouragement and raised his voice to be heard over the engine and the passing wind.

"Another couple of miles and we'll be home."

Hitch gave him a small grin and a thumbs up. Chewing vigorously on his gum, he went back to concentrating on his driving.

Tully looked over at Troy and nodded when their eyes met. Troy didn't have to tell the lanky kid from Kentucky that their home base was only a few miles ahead. Troy would bet that the red head knew exactly where they were, even without looking at a map.

Troy turned his attention to the sky, squinting into the sun, watching for any tell-tale glints. An enemy plane was still a possibility, even this close to their base. They like to attack with the sun behind them to blind their target. Troy and his men had been attacked in just that manner on more than one occasion.

The base came into sight and Troy sighed, thinking of a hot shower and a warm meal. He briefly considered catching up on his sleep first but decided that he would sleep better with a full stomach and a clean body.

Moffitt shouted and when Troy looked his way the Brit pointed at the sky above and behind them. Even as he turned to look Troy could hear the whine of the German planes as they started their attack. He scrambled over the back of his seat to man his gun, knowing Moffitt was doing the same.

The jeep swerved as Troy grabbed onto the handles of his 50. One of the planes had fired at them, sending little spurts of dust rising in a line where the jeep would have been if Hitch hadn't swerved. The belly of the plane was exposed for only a few seconds and Troy wasn't set. He watched it turn and come around for another run.

The base was in chaos as men ran for cover. Anti-aircraft guns were on line firing at the attacking planes. Several trucks were hit and burst into flames, throwing shrapnel into anyone unfortunate enough to be close. Screams drown out the shouts of officers trying to organize a defense.

Another plane passed over the jeeps mowing down soldiers who were running to fight the fires.

Moffitts' gun opened fire, rattling a steady beat as he tried to track his fast moving target. Troy joined the fight when a second plane targeted Moffitt and his gun. Tully darted out of the line of the planes' path and raced alongside, giving Moffitt more time to compensate for speed and a better chance at the belly of the beast. Smoke began to pour from the engines as the bullets found their mark. The pilot pulled up mid-strike and fought for altitude. The smoke thickened and got blacker by the second. Without control, the pilot lost his fight and went down with the plane. It crashed in a huge ball of flames just outside the perimeter of the base.

Troy quit watching the doomed plane at a shout from Hitch. His driver was crouched down in his seat gripping the wheel hard. The sargent saw the slight change of grip and held on tight. The blond stomped on the brakes and twisted the wheel sharply to the left. The little vehicle spun in a half circle and the tires bit into the sand as Hitch pressed the gas pedal to the floor. The seconds ticked off in slow motion in Troys' head as he waited for the tires to take hold. When they did, the jeep jumped forward and raced away from the bomb headed their way. The force of the detonation almost ripped Troy from his position behind the 50. A large crater was now taking up the space they had occupied only a few seconds before.

Tully turned his jeep so Moffitt could give Troy and Hitch cover fire. Before they could reach the other jeep they found that they had troubles of their own. One of the planes targeted them with its guns. It came straight at them, ignoring the fire from the anti-aircraft batteries. Tully dodged to the side, almost running down several men who were trying to find better shelter from the bombs.

Small arms fire added to the chaos as soldiers grabbed any weapon on hand and began to fight back. Moffitt yelled and pointed to the side to tell Tully to go that way. A sharp spin of the wheel and the jeep shot out toward the open desert away from the base and its target rich environment.

The plane circled and followed them, no longer trying to shoot at them. Now it was getting into position to drop its bomb. Moffitt called a warning to Tully as he gripped the handle of the 50 and prepared to fight for their very survival.

Dropping the nose of his plane, the pilot started his dive toward the fast moving jeep. He was concentrating on his target, ignoring everything else. That proved to be a mistake. Watching them, he ran his plane right into the line of bullets Troy sent his way. His plane shuttered and he lost power. The motor chugged and sputtered. Pulling up, he tried to gain altitude and return to his base. When the engine died, he knew he'd failed. He pulled his release and ejected from the aircraft just before it spun in a lazy circle and nose-dived toward the ground. As his chute floated toward the earth he watched the plane pick up speed and begin to spin wildly before it plowed into the sand, bursting into flames. Thick black smoke marked the crash site. He tried to steer his chute as far from the wreck as possible.

The third and final plane now targeted the jeeps. Troy had Hitch follow Tully out into the desert. Driving side by side, they lured the plane away from the base. As it made a run at them, the two jeeps split apart, keeping the attacking plane between them. Both 50s sent lethal missiles toward the big, shiny target. The pilot realized his mistake too late to compensate for their maneuver. His bullets ripped up the dirt between them as their bullets tore into his plane. He didn't have time to eject as his plane caught fire and crashed into the desert floor.

The two jeeps rolled to a stop and Troy and Moffitt scanned the sky for any more German planes. Allied fighters would have been called to defend the base and they expected to see a few of them before long. Their practiced eyes saw nothing but clear sky.

Moffitt pointed toward the column of black smoke from the crashed plane. Troy nodded wordlessly and Tully and Hitch turned in their seats and started the little jeeps rolling again.

Troy and Moffitt held onto the 50s and kept a sharp eye peeled for the pilot. They had all seen the parachute floating in the heat haze. Starting at the wrecked plane they made ever widening circles, watching for any sign of the chute or the pilot. Tully and Hitch kept their eyes on the ground watching for footprints as Troy and Moffitt concentrated on every little bit of cover that presented itself. The pilot was more likely to have a pistol than a rifle but they hadn't survived this long by being careless.

"Sarge!" Tully pointed to a set of footprints making a beeline for a distant dune.

Hitch spun his wheel and cut to the left of the dune, leaving Tully to go to the right. The sergeants braced for trouble as the jeeps raced around the back of the dune. As they came together both privates followed the new line of footprints with their eyes. They ended on top of another dune where they undoubtedly went down the other side.

"Do you want to follow him or try to head him off Sarge?" Tully chewed his matchstick and waited for Troys' decision.

Hitch chewed his gum and blew a bubble. His eyes followed Troys' every move as the sargent considered his options.

Moffitt was watching the dune. The pilot didn't stick his head up over the top of the dune and shoot at them but he was ready just in case.

"I'll follow on foot. You take the jeeps around the dune and keep him busy. Maybe I can get the drop on him while he's shooting at you." Troy smiled at the startled looks sent his way. "Get moving before he walks all the way back to his own lines." Troy helped himself to a machine gun from the holster on the fender of the jeep and began his walk toward the dune. Once near the top he would have to crawl on his belly but for now he could stay on his feet.

The jeeps pulled out, spraying sand from the wheels as the drivers made wide circles around the dune. A single shot from a small caliber gun announced that the pilot was now between Troy and the jeeps.

He made his way quickly to the base of the dune, half expecting the German pilot to try and retreat back the way he'd come. Troy kept his gun aimed at the top of the hill wanting the split second edge that the move gave him. Moffitt opened fire with his 50, the noise covering any sound that Troy made. A second 50 started firing and Troy realized that Hitch had stopped out of pistol range and was putting the heavier weapon to good use. With their cover fire Troy raced up the slope and dropped to his belly. Slowing his progress, he crawled the rest of the way until he could see down the slope on the other side. The pilot had found a rock outcrop to hide behind. As Troy watched, he emptied his pistol at the others. He searched his pockets but apparently he didn't have any more ammunition. Throwing the gun away, he tried to retreat to the other side of the dune.

Troy let him come until he reached the top. With one final glance behind him, the pilot started down the other side. While his attention was elsewhere Troy lunged at him from behind another rock. One quick chop to the neck with the edge of his hand and Troy whistled to the others.

The Rat Patrol rolled into the base for the second time that day. The fires were out and crews were busy cleaning up the mess left by the attack. There were cheers as they drove past the soot covered men with their prisoner in tow. MPs arrived to take the German off their hands.

"Take the jeeps to the motor pool. Moffitt and I will report to the Colonel. We'll find you at the motor pool when we're finished and we can all go get something to eat." Troy pulled himself from the jeep as his tired body protested.

"Right Sarge." Hitch nodded. Tully didn't reply but he wheeled his jeep up next to the one that Hitch drove.

"Perhaps we could hit the showers first?" Moffitt ask hopefully. "With all this mess," the sargent looked around at the sweating, smoke covered men, "the showers may be pretty busy before long."

"Okay." Troy sighed. "Showers first, food second. After the jeeps are resupplied and the Colonel has his report." He added.

"I just want to sleep." Hitch grumbled behind a wide yawn.

"All in good time lad, all in good time." Moffitt smiled cheerfully and climbed from his jeep.

"Could you please stop that?" Tully growled.

"Stop what?" Moffitt looked at Tully in confusion.

"Being so dang cheerful." His driver responded. "It ain't natural. You should be just as tired and cranky as the rest of us."

Moffitt frowned. "Is this better?"

Tully grinned at him. "Yep, that'll do."

"Get going. I want to get that shower and some hot food sometime today." Troy chased the two privates off to finish their assigned tasks. "Let's go Moffitt. Maybe we can get our report finished before all the reports from the raid start pouring in."

The two sergeants made their way to headquarters to file all their reports in triplicate and talk to the Colonel in person. They were just giving the final details when the information on the raid was delivered. They hurried out before the Colonel could find them more work to do.

Showered and dressed in fresh uniforms, the four men shuffled into the mess tent. Troy blamed the exhaustion for his failure to note the odd behavior of the men already there. All four of them loaded their trays and looked around for a table. Miraculously, there was one empty right in the center of the mess tent. They sat down to eat, ignoring the men around them, too tired to even talk among themselves.

At some signal, unseen by the Rat Patrol, every man in the tent stood and moved to surround their table. Troy and the others glanced up in surprise, uneasy at being surrounded.

"Sargent Troy."

Troy faced the speaker, a sargent that he'd seen around. He tried to put a name to the face but his tired brain just wouldn't cooperate.

"The guys and I have been talking."

By now all four members of the Rat Patrol were on their feet.

"The Army Air Corp gives their fliers a badge for being an 'ace'. They have to shoot down five planes to earn that title." The sargent smiled broadly. "Now we know you guys aren't fliers, but that just makes your record that much more impressive. We took a count and figure that between you you've shot down more than enough German planes to qualify as 'aces'. And the fact that you don't fly has not escaped our consideration." With a flourish he pulled his arm from behind his back. In his hand he held four paper badges, homemade in a hurry from the looks of them. "In honor of your success against enemy planes, the men and I would like to present you with these 'Wingless Aces' badges. They're not official….but they're heartfelt. A true symbol of our thanks for all you've done."

The sargent took a step closer and handed a paper badge to each of the four men, saluting as each one accepted the offering.

Troy and the others stared at the 'badges' in their hands speechless. When they looked up every man in the room came to attention and saluted them again.

"Since Sgt. Troy seems to be at a loss for words, perhaps I could say something." Moffitt smiled at the room full of men after returning their salutes.

"Speech, speech." Was the resounding reply.

Moffitt paused to consider his words. Fingering the paper badge, he took a deep breath. "We'd like to thank you for this honor. And it is an honor…..official or not. I know I speak for all of us when I say that we were just doing our jobs. We don't feel we did anything special." There was a groan from the crowd. "I don't mean to belittle your opinions. I guess what I'm trying to say is that we don't feel that we deserve anything special." He paused to hold the badge high. "And this is special." He turned to look at the faces of Troy and the privates. They were all watching him, waiting for him to continue. "Well, I just,,,we ..want to thank you and we hope we can continue to help for a long time to come." He picked up his glass of water, "A toast."

Everyone rushed to find a glass of water.

Mofffit held his water high. "A toast to friends and to all the Allied fighting men who do the best they can with what they have."

He held tight to his paper badge and he noticed that the others were doing the same.


End file.
